


You Get A Name Too, Little Red

by Singing_Siren



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Pack, BAMF Stiles, Full Shift Werewolves, Good Alpha Derek Hale, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mates, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, The Hale Pack - Freeform, but it's okay cause so is derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26765302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singing_Siren/pseuds/Singing_Siren
Summary: “We need code names,” Stiles said, looking slightly manic.“Code names?”“Yes, Erica, my clawed princess, code names.”Stiles looked expectantly around the room, hands outstretched and a giant grin on his face. When nobody responded, he frowned. His hands fell back to his sides.“Come on, guys,” he whined. “What happened to pack bonding?"Or: Stiles wants to give each pack member a code name to use in battle, but they're not that into it. Guess he has to prove that his idea is awesome, whether they like it or not.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski & The Pack
Comments: 19
Kudos: 559





	You Get A Name Too, Little Red

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for this fandom, so I apologize for any mistakes. I just have a lot of feelings for these idiots, and not gonna lie, this plot and the actual code names came from a dream I had last night. So, enjoy!

“We need code names,” Stiles said, looking slightly manic.

“Code names?”

“Yes, Erica, my clawed princess, code names.”

Stiles looked expectantly around the room, hands outstretched and a giant grin on his face. When nobody responded, he frowned. His hands fell back to his sides.

“Come on, guys,” he whined. “What happened to  _ pack bonding _ ? Code names are the perfect way to get closer to each other! There have been studies on how nicknames help people form bonds, so code names should have the same effect. Right? Lydia, back me up on this.”

Lydia raised an eyebrow as the pack turned towards her. She let out a put upon sigh. “In theory, Stiles is correct.”

“That’s a first,” Jackson snorted. He winced as Lydia hit him upside the head. “What? It’s true.”

“I like Stiles’ idea!” Scott said. He smiled wide at his best friend, pleased that he could make Stiles smile although he wasn’t fully on board with the concept.

“Focus,” Derek commanded, eyes flashing red briefly. The pack fell silent once again. “We’re not here to argue about Stiles’ idiotic ideas. We’re here to talk about the omega in our territory, and I think we’d all prefer it if he doesn’t bring any more hunters here.”

“My ideas are not idiotic!”

Derek levelled Stiles with a glare.

“Fine, some of them are. But I think this one’s a winner.”

Isaac rolled his eyes and grabbed Stiles by the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him onto the couch between himself and Scott. They all ignored Stiles’ squawking and got on with the rest of the pack meeting.

That was how it started.

**Scott - Berserker**

“Zombie on your six,” Stiles called out, hand shoveling the last of his chips into his mouth.

Scott yelped as his character took damage.

“I said your six, Scott, not your nine.” He grinned as he sniped a zombie sneaking up on one of his teammates.

“Sorry.” Scott threw a chip into his mouth without looking.

Stiles’ character was swarmed on all sides. “A little help, Scotty?”

“I got this.” He clenched his jaw, eyes glowing faintly yellow in the dark of Stiles’ room. In a few swift movements, all the zombies were dead.

“Good job, Berserkerwolf,” Stiles chuckled.

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Would you rather Beastwolf?”

A beat of silence.

“Berserker’s fine.”

Stiles stole a chip from Scott’s bowl.

**Boyd - Jules Vern**

“Boyd, my good man,” Stiles called into the Hale house. He poked his head into the kitchen to search for him but found nothing. “Where’s my favorite beta at?”

No answer.

He huffed and set off to find Boyd, complaining about Derek’s decoration skills the whole way. As he approached the game room, his bare foot caught the edge of a table and he fell to the floor with a yelp.

Warm hands lifted him up. “Stiles?”

“Boyd! I’ve been looking for you. Where were you?” He grinned, dusting his hoodie off.

“Reading,” he said with a frown. “Why were you looking for me? Did something happen? I didn’t hear any of the wolves howl, and my phone hasn’t gone off, so I assume it’s just you being you and not mortal peril.”

“Ooh, what were you reading?” He bounced on his toes.

“Stiles, focus.”

“I am focused,” he scoffed. “I wanna know what The Vernon Boyd reads in his free time.”

“Don’t call me Vernon.”

“Come on,” he drew out, “Tell me what you were reading and I’ll tell you why I’m here.”

Boyd looked up to the ceiling with a sigh.

“Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea.”

Stiles’ face lit up. “By Jules Vern? That’s so fitting! Get it? Vern? Vernon? I know, I’m a genius.”

Boyd’s face didn’t twitch.

“Alright, Jules, I’ll tell you why I’m here. Rumor has it that Harris is giving a pop quiz tomorrow and I need your help studying. Would you do me that favor?”

“Fine.”

**Jackson - Lizard Face**

The cellar was dark, lit only by the glowing eyes of the shackled wolves. There were ten in total, seven with gold eyes, three with blue, and all of them were beaten and bloodied.

The werewolves were agitated. They growled and thrashed against their wolfsbane-laced bindings. A few lunged towards the far corner, where a figure of pale skin and red cloth sat, quietly picking the lock to his chains.

Ten wolves, and Stiles.

A howl rang through the cellar, different from all the others. Everything froze. The wolves stopped breathing, stopped growling, stopped clawing at their skin.

Stiles grinned.

He knew that howl.

That was his alpha’s howl.

He threw back his head and returned the howl. His magic pushed through his throat to echo it through the compound. The other wolves shivered. No doubt they wondered why this weak human knew how to howl like a wolf.

Throughout the compound above the cellar, three more wolves sang their victory cries. Jackson, Erica, and Scott. The former sounded the closest.

Stiles stood, the shackles now unlocked and at his feet, and let his eyes glow white. The wolves around him cowered. He raised a hand to the door that separated the cellar from the stairs. The metal crumbled to ash.

“Down here,” he called into the darkness.

“Stiles!” Jackson called as he bounded from the top of the stairs, the name mangled by fangs.

“I’m glad you found me, Lizard Face,” Stiles grinned. “I need your help getting these betas free.”

Jackson let out a quiet growl at the nickname but let it go. He ran a hand over Stiles’ neck and side on instinct, scenting his packmate after a heated battle to reassure his wolf. Then he got to work breaking the other wolves’ shackles.

**Isaac and Erica - Scarves and Catwoman**

School the day after a monster fight was never fun. The Hale Pack learned that quickly. The most recent monster of the week had been a lost minotaur that claimed the forest as his maze. Stiles snorted at the memory of Derek on the back of the minotaur’s head, claws digging into its horns as the betas worked to avoid its swinging axe.

The cafeteria was loud, and Stiles knew that it was even louder for the wolves. He shoveled food into his mouth as quickly as he could. His head pounded. His shoulder ached where he had been thrown into a tree the day before.

Erica groaned beside him, hands over her ears. Stiles saw the start of a beta-shift coming on as Erica’s eyes flashed gold, a low growl rumbling from her chest.

Stiles reacted quickly, years of thinking on his feet to survive leading him to grab one of Isaac’s scarves and wrap it around Erica’s head, trapping her hands on her ears beneath the fabric. Most importantly, it covered her eyes.

The growl in her chest stopped abruptly, but Isaac pouted from his place on Stiles’ other side.

“Sorry, Scarves, Catwoman needed it more,” Stiles cupped the back of Isaac’s neck to calm him.

Isaac relaxed into the touch and let out a rumble of content.

**Lydia - Singer**

Stiles threw himself onto the living room couch, forearm over his eyes to block the light. He groaned.

Someone picked up his legs, ignoring his yelp of surprise, and sat down on the couch where they were, his legs resting in their lap. He shifted his arm and squinted through the sunlight.

Derek.

Stiles closed his eyes and smiled under the safety of his arm. He snuggled back into the cushions.

The soft moment was disturbed by an ear-splitting scream.

Stiles threw his hands to his ears and pressed as hard as he could, but it didn’t help at all. The noise buzzed around the base of his skull until he tasted blood. He felt more than saw Derek’s hands clasp his own to block the noise and pull their foreheads together. Derek’s eyes were a bright red.

The scream stopped, but Stiles’ ears rang.

A thought came to him almost immediately, and he berated himself for not realising it sooner.  _ Lydia _ . 

He watched as Derek came to the same conclusion. They moved as one towards the kitchen, where they last saw Lydia with Jackson.

Jackson snarled at their entrance, arms wrapped around his exhausted mate and eyes blue, instincts raging. Derek let out a low roar, flashing his eyes. Jackson whimpered, forehead dropping to Lydia’s neck. She gasped for breath, eyes closed.

Stiles took care of Lydia while Derek calmed Jackson down, a well-practiced system the two of them had used before.

“Hey, Lyds,” Stiles whispered as her eyes fluttered open. He pushed her hair back from her forehead. “How ya’ doing? It looks like that one took a lot out of you.”

“There’s a group of redcaps at the Nemeton,” she breathed out in a rush, tears trailing down her face. “They’re gonna kill a hiker.”

“You are a goddess, Lydia Martin. A goddess in banshee form, a singing goddess.” Stiles turned to the rest of the pack who had gathered around them after the scream. “Isaac, Scott, brush up on your Bible verses. Boyd, Erica, gather all the crosses you can find. Jackson, guard our Singer here. Allison, Derek, and I will scope out the Nemeton. Meet back here in an hour.”

They went their separate ways, taking care of their tasks and preparing to push the redcaps off their territory.

**Allison - Titan**

Stiles watched his pack, barring Lydia who was with her mother, fight, a smile pulling at his face. They moved fluidly, dancing around each other with teeth and claws extended, eyes glowing with power. Derek was at the middle of it all, flipping Jackson over his shoulder as Scott charged from the left.

Isaac ducked low, claws digging into Derek’s thigh and dodging a swipe of the alpha’s claws. He slid away from the fight as Erica and Boyd came in from opposite directions. Jackson and Scott helped each other up and threw themselves back into the fight. Allison watched from the side, waiting for her moment.

As Isaac, Erica, and Boyd worked together to bring Derek to his knees, Allison rushed in. In one fluid movement, she pulled a knife from her boot and flung it to the spot under Derek’s ribs, rolling away as Scott and Jackson moved to take him down further.

Stiles stood from his spot at the edge of the clearing. He held his breath.

Derek let himself fall, but drew the line at having Scott’s claws at his throat. He roared, eyes red. The betas, wolf and human alike, scattered to the trees. Stiles watched with wide eyes as Allison pulled herself up onto a high branch for a better vantage point. The wolves hid themselves in the shadows, crouched low.

Derek pulled himself up into a standing position, bleeding sluggishly. He wrenched the knife from his ribs and threw it to the grass with a considering look. He scanned the treeline and met Stiles’ gaze. He smirked.

Stiles felt himself blush slightly, but he pushed it away, focused more on watching Derek’s bare chest heal from his wounds. Derek gave a quick nod to Stiles in silent communication.

Stiles nodded back. He whistled sharply, the signal for the pack to return.

They were on Derek in a second, pushing him to the ground and aggressively scenting him. Allison, slower than the wolves, waited for them to be done. As they went to do the same to Stiles, she stepped up to Derek, neck bared.

He drew her in for a hug, a deep rumble in his chest. He scented her neck.

“You did well, Allison. You played to your strengths and waited for the right moment to strike. I’m proud of you.”

Stiles watched them, Scott at his side, and grinned.

“That’s our Titan, all right.”

The pack groaned.

**Derek - Full Moon**

Full moons were a wonderful time for the pack. They ran and played until dawn, until they were exhausted and the power rushing through them dulled.

Siles loved full moons the most. He thought since he was human he wouldn’t enjoy it as much as the wolves, but he still felt the thrum of the moon under his skin and the urge to howl until his voice gave out. He embraced it.

The first time Stiles saw Derek’s full-shift, he threw back his head and howled. It felt right, his alpha’s fur under his fingers and the power of the moon by his side. His eyes glowed white to match alpha red. Now, every full moon he waited for it. That perfect moment where Derek shifted into what Stiles’ magic deemed his true form.

This full moon was like any other.

Stiles ran with Derek through the silver-lit trees. He watched the alpha shift seamlessly between forms, from skin to fur and back in an instant. They came to a river at last.

Stiles dropped to his knees, ignoring the rocks that dug into his bare skin. He felt the need to dive in and see if his alpha would chase him, but he decided against it. It wasn’t the right time for a swim. He looked up, eyes fully white, to meet the moon. Derek rumbled against his side, once again in his wolf form.

He caught himself staring at the figure next to him, as he always seemed to do.

“You’re my Full Moon, Alpha,” he declared with a weak voice.

Derek howled deep in his throat, eyes more red than ever before. Stiles joined him. It felt like something was sealed that night, something sacred.

**Stiles - Little Red**

They had planned for this the night before, had gone over the strategies in excruciating detail. The pack had protested at the use of their code names, but Stiles had insisted. As the Alpha’s Mate, Stiles got his way.

“Jules and Zerker,” Stiles called out from the edge of the clearing, “Move to flank. Titan and Singer, aim for the weak points. Catwoman, take it down a peg. Get it to the ground safely; don’t get swiped by the horn. Don’t be scared to make a move, Liz, it’s just a Unicorn. Watch out for the horn and the hooves, and you’ll be fine. Remember, we practiced this. You’ll all do great.”

The unicorn reared up as Erica lunged forward. She rammed her shoulder into its side, tipping it enough for Jackson to grab its neck and pull it to the ground. Boyd and Scott held it down, already in position. Allison shot poison arrows at its joints as Lydia read from her book of spells, muttering to herself.

“Scarves, remember that move I taught you? Do it now.”

Isaac rushed the beast, eyes gold and claws out. He propelled himself into the air in a poor recreation of a front handspring, feet above his head as his clawed hand reached down into the unicorn’s chest. He ripped the heart out as he landed on the other side of the beast.

“Full Moon, finish it.”

Derek, who had been standing with Stiles while the fight went on, beta-shifted and ran to the pack. As the unicorn cried out and began to glow black, trying to grow its heart back despite the pack holding it down, Derek approached rapidly. He roared, full of alpha strength, and ripped the horn off the beast’s head.

Stiles moved in quickly, eyes glowing white as he weaved his magic around the horn. He banished the unicorn’s spirit from the horn, expelling its magic with a spell he learned the night before, his spark aiding with a heavy dose of belief.

He waited a beat. The pack’s hold tightened on the unicorn just in case, but there was no use. The rampaging monster was dead.

“We did it,” Stiles smiled. “Just like we practiced.”

Jackson stretched, cracking his neck as he moved to scent Lydia. “Of course we won. You’re the one who told us it was more of a practice run anyways. It’s not that big a deal.”

Stiles met Lydia’s eyes and nodded. She slapped Jackson on the back of the head, scenting him back in the process.

“It was still a real battle, Jax,” Stiles teased. “Just because it wasn’t a dragon doesn’t mean it wasn’t life or death.”

“We could take down a dragon,” Erica smirked. “For sure.”

Derek moved to scent Stiles, rubbing his nose up and down his neck. “You did good, Little Red.”

Stiles squawked. He pushed his mate away with wide eyes. “That is not fair!”

Derek smiled slyly. The pack burst into laughter, Jackson muttering something about karma.

Boyd smirked, “You named me after an author from the 1800s. Everything is fair.”

Stiles glanced at his pack, watched their banter, the light in their eyes that had nothing to do with their wolves, and smiled. “Yeah, I guess it fits.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Did you hate it? Tell me! I need feedback to get better <3


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